


After the Wizarding War

by withcameraandpen



Category: Bandstand - Oberacker/Oberacker & Taylor
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-06-19 16:03:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15513432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withcameraandpen/pseuds/withcameraandpen
Summary: Donny and his friends were left in pieces after the Second Wizarding War. The Battle of Hogwarts took much from them, but none more than Julia, who lost her beloved Michael. Years after, Julia climbs out of the woodwork and reaches out to her old friends--but for what, Donny can't figure out. And why so long without saying anything? But part of him, an ugly and angry part, was thankful they fell out of touch, because if that part of him came to light, he may very well lose her forever. (Bandstand Hogwarts AU where they all go to school in the UK bc I said so)





	1. Who We Were

**September 1st, 1995 – Platform 9 ¾**

The Hogwarts Express shone bright red against the thick steam that swathed the platform. Students exchanged goodbyes with their families and then climbed onto the train, eager to reunite with friends. Owls were well and good, but they were nothing to making mischief with friends at school.

And Julia had nearly run her owl ragged with all her letters. Even going into her fifth year at Hogwarts, the novelty of communicating with owls hadn’t worn off, nor had her appreciation for the friends she’d made over the years. Surely those friends had already arrived on the platform…

“Summer’s been kind to you, Julia.” 

She turned and found a familiar face smiling at her, but she would have known that cocky voice a mile away. “You’re a cad, Donny Novitski.”

He pushed his luggage dolly aside and enveloped her in a big hug. “Always have been, always will be.” He was cute enough that he got away with it, which was a dangerous kind of cute to be. Frankly, it was for the best that he was Sorted into Slytherin—they could see through his schtick. So could she, of course.

“We should hurry onto the train,” she said, pulling away from him and grabbing her own dolly. “never hear the end of it from Nick if all the compartments fill up again.” Nick was an old curmudgeon in a fifth year’s body, which had made him a perfect prefect for Slytherin House. He had fussed last year over sharing the compartment with a couple of “uppity” Ravenclaws, but after Julia soothed him and Donny pointed out they had no other compartment to pick from, he settled down. And on the ride back, they shared the compartment with the same two Ravenclaws, though now they called them Johnny and Davy and they had become very dear friends.

“I dunno, Jules,” he said as they climbed aboard, checking his watch. “It’s five to eleven. All the good compartments are taken by now.” The only ones left were the scrabbling first-years, daunted by the train and the older kids. Julia could recognize the same thrill in the Muggle-born students that she had felt on her first train ride. Shipping off to a school of magic would have been positively overwhelming for Julia if she hadn’t found Donny on her first ride.

Julia heaved her trunk onto the train and dragged it behind her as they set out in search of their friends, peering into every compartment to find a vacancy. Also with her was her beautiful barn owl, Ellen. The poor thing didn’t like all the commotion, but there wasn’t much Julia could do about it. Not yet, anyway. “Well, we’ll just have to hope the others found one,” she said, determined not to entertain any other possibility than their friends taking care of it.

But as the Hogwarts Express chugged away from the platform and Donny and Julia continued their trek through the corridor, the odds of their friends finding a compartment for themselves became increasingly bleak. Julia was contemplating parking it in the corridor and spending the day perched on the edge of her trunk when Donny’s face brightened. He opened up the door of one of the last compartments and said, “Merlin, make us a walk a little further, why don’t you?”

Julia set down her trunk with a sigh of relief, squeezing past it and Ellen’s cage to meet up with her friends. But face fell when she peered in and found that all six seats were filled. 

Nick, Johnny, and Davy sat on one side while three other boys sat on the other. One of them was already in his school robes, complete with a red-and-gold tie and a prefect badge. He was lucky enough to snag the window seat, while the boy who sat near the aisle seemed nervous, wringing his hands at the awkwardness that was about to ensue. The blonde boy in the middle, though…that boy in the middle…

As if from miles away, she heard Nick say to them, “It was the best I could do.”

“We’ll find somewhere else to sit,” said Donny. “We’ll see ya at the feast. Well, _I_ will.” He glanced pointedly at Julia. “Some of us had to go and get Sorted into Hufflepuff.”

“You hush,” she replied, though a smile crept up on her face nonetheless. “We’re bound to double up in classes. We Hufflepuffs are the only ones who can mellow you out.”

“Hey, if you find a compartment near the front,” said Davy, leaning past Johnny to look at them, “can you grab some Every Flavor Beans? I’ll pay you back for your troubles.”

“It’s okay.” The blonde boy stood up, and Julia was suddenly struck by how tall he was. And then he smiled at her—oh, that smile! It could light up the whole of the dreary countryside they were chugging through. The boy said, “My buddies and I can find some other Gryffindors to descend upon. We’ll make room.”

“It’s all right,” said Julia with a wide smile. “Our luggage might make things a bit cramped, but I think we can each squeeze one more on each bench.”

“You sure?” asked Donny. She looked back and met his puzzled look with a firm one of her own: _don’t you dare_. “Here, Johnny, help me with my trunk.”

“Sure thing, bud.” Johnny, always a saint, stood up and helped move their trunks in without a hint of a smirk or a twinkle in his eye. Donny squeezed in between Davy and Nick, the latter of whom looked as put out as can be, but Julia found herself right at home next to the blonde Gryffindor. 

“I’ve seen you around, right?” she asked him, curling a lock of hair around her finger. “Our houses doubled up in Charms a while back, I think.”

“It shows,” he said. “I’d say you’re pretty charming.”

Julia bit her lip and did her absolute best to will her blush away. She was inches from giggling, but she was a mature fifth year who did not giggle the first time a good-looking Gryffindor flirted with her. But even the most mature fifth years couldn’t control their blushes.

“What’s your name?” she asked. “My name’s Julia Adams. And these are my friends.” She’d rattle off their names later, after they were paid a visit by the trolley and Julia lost all her allure and dignity trying to wrangle a Chocolate Frog.

The blonde Gryffindor’s smile widened, and suddenly it was as if they were the only two people in this compartment, on this train, in the world. “I’m Michael. And I think you’d laugh if I told you my last name.”

 

**Present Day**

Julia set down her quill with a sigh, her eyes burning but dry. She always felt so close to crying when she thought of Michael, even now. She remembered so clearly the furtive glances across the Herbology greenhouses, the nights they slipped out of their common rooms to reunite under the stars, his smiles and kisses and all the promises he had made her. All gone after one night.

She tied up the scroll with twine and brought it to the window. Ellen waited dutifully for her, though it had been years since Julia dared to stray from the Muggle mail system. This was the last letter like this she was sending out. The others had replied quickly, assuring her they would be there. And she knew this one’s recipient would do the same, but she feared his response. Her absence would have hurt him the most.

“Take this to Donny,” she said, affixing the scroll to Ellen’s leg. “Go ahead and badger him for treats. He’s got a soft spot for you, I know it.”

Ellen nipped Julia’s finger affectionately and then took off out the window, disappearing in the night. With her she carried words that would bring Donny back to Hogwarts, for better or for worse.

 

_Dear Donny,_  
_I’m sorry for falling out of touch. I’m getting the gang back together soon, though, and I want to know if you can make it. I’m planning a memorial for the anniversary of Michael’s death, you see. Yes, three years is a little late for a memorial, but it’s not going to be a statue or a ceremony. I’d like it just to be us, telling stories and playing his music and remembering him._  
_I know it’s been a while. And I know three years is a lot to make up for. But I miss you, Donny, and I’d really like you to be with me for this.  
With love, Julia _


	2. A Campaign to Campbell

Donny Novitski wasn’t a morning person.

He woke up blearily, staring at a dizzying ceiling above him, and then rolled out of bed and shuffled off for the bathroom. He passed the table on which he’d left Julia’s unspooled letter and caught a whiff of the gin he spilled on it. But he needed no reminder of how he spent last night.

_Julia._ Her owl had flown through his window, and all of a sudden Julia had soared back into his life. They had barely seen each other since the Battle of Hogwarts three long years ago, though the wounds from it were still fresh. All it had taken was one read of the letter for the pain to flare up again, so he reached for his gin, which he found could dull the pain. And when he ran out of his stash, he went downstairs to the Blue Wisp and loaded up on firewhiskey. Yeah, the Blue Wisp treated its musicians pretty well.

He had seen hide nor hair of their other friends, either. Jimmy he kept in touch with, and he sometimes saw his old pals in the Wizarding shopping district, but Michael’s death carved a wide, deep ravine between them all. It didn’t make sense that they had grown so distant—they had all been there for Julia until the funeral, stuffing down their own rage and grief and guilt—

Donny had said goodbye to her at the graveyard. Julia was pale and wan, and her eyes had maintained a constant dampness the whole week. She had hugged him at Michael’s graveside, and he remembered how she felt in his arms, so small and meek and so not like herself. And then she climbed into her mother’s car, and that was the last he’d heard from her.

After he’d washed and dressed, he went downstairs to the Blue Wisp. The pub was mostly deserted this early in the morning, but there were a couple drunks already at the bar, as usual. Jo the bartender looked up when Donny came down. “Mornin’, kid,” she said cheerily, scrubbing the bottom of a glass.

Donny cut straight to the point. “Can you spot me some Floo Powder?”

She chuckled. “You cleaned out my firewhiskey last night and asked me to hold your tab.”

“You know I’m good for it. _You_ hired _me._ ”

“Easy.” Jo set down the glass, and Donny spotted a grimy film at the very bottom. Privately, he wondered how permanent that film was, and if he had drunk out of that glass last night. “You play for your room and board, and nothing more.”

“Well, I got a gig coming up next week,” he replied tersely. “I’ll pay you then.”

“A week is a long time to hold a tab.”

“I don’t have the time for this song and dance, Jo!” Donny snapped. “I need your Floo Powder.”

Jo backed off, nodding at the fireplace across the room. “Go ahead, kid. On the house.”

“Thanks.” Donny dashed away to the fireplace, grabbed a handful of Floo Powder from the beaten-up cauldron on the stone floor, and threw it in. Bright green flames erupted from the gently simmering logs, which he stepped into without fear. Had Jo sensed his emergency? Well, he supposed, seeing a hard-on-his-luck musician nearly drink himself to death the night before might have been a pretty big hint.

Fighting back the blinding green light and the hot ash filling his mouth, Donny cried out, “Ministry of Magic, Department of Magical Law Enforcement!”

He was sucked into a vortex of green, spiraling downward past dozens of other fireplaces connected to the Network. He was dizzied beyond belief and had resolved never to travel by Floo again when suddenly he shot through a black marble fireplace and spilled out onto a white marble floor. His cheekbone connected with the grate, which lay pinned under him as a voice that sounded so shockingly familiar, and so familiarly shocked, yelped, “Excuse me?”

Donny hauled himself out of the fireplace and then lay face-up on the cool marble, breathing deeply. The nauseating travel of the Floo Network had worsened his hangover, but he had a feeling that trying to Apparate in this state might have killed him.

A face appeared above him, his glasses nearly slipping off his nose. “Ever heard of an owl, Donny?”

“Nice to see you, too, Jimmy.” 

Jimmy Campbell extended his arm and hauled Donny to his feet. He still wore those wire-framed glasses and he still had that look of constant, healthy skepticism on his face. “If I’d have known you were coming, I would have moved the grate.”

“Yeah, well. I didn’t know I was coming until five minutes ago.” He wavered on his feet, grasping Jimmy’s shoulder, when he spotted the chairs that sat before Jimmy’s desk. “Mind if I sit? Your office is spinning.”

“Yeah, sure.” Jimmy led him to a chair with a concerned frown, perching on the edge of his desk. “I’m sure you already know this, but you look like hell.”

He shot him a look. “It’s the Floo Powder.”

“I’m sure it is.” He brushed some remaining ash off Donny’s shoulder and then watched distastefully as it fell onto his bright white chairs. “I’m not gonna mince words. If you’re going to show up out of the blue, I’d rather you do it at the visitor’s entrance—not that I’m not happy to see you, but if this is going to become a regular thing—"

“You’re mincing a lotta words.”

Jimmy’s mouth pressed into a thin line. “Why are you here?”

Why _was_ he here? He’d set out on a warpath for Jimmy’s office without any real idea what he wanted. “Did you get an owl from Julia recently? She’s getting a memorial together. For Michael.”

Jimmy nodded. He had a look of weight on his face, like a burden or a memory, but Donny especially noticed the absence of any surprise. “Yes, I heard from her. And I’m going.”

“You’re going. Of course you’re going.” Of course Jimmy was going. There was no way any of their old friends would refuse a call to action from Julia.

Jimmy folded his arms. “You’re going, too, right?”

“Yeah. I want to. Merlin, I want to, but—” He rose from his chair, incapable of sitting still. “I don’t know if I can. It’ll be like walking into the Battle of Hogwarts all over again.”

Jimmy sighed as he watched him pace, waving his wand to clean up the ash. “It’s going to be rough. I can’t imagine what it was like for you, going that whole school year without Julia only for her to stop talking to us. But I think we owe it to Michael—”

“I was serious.” Donny’s right hand began to tremble. “When I said it’s like walking back into battle, I meant it. It’s gonna be like Michael died all over again.”

Jimmy went quiet for a long moment, affixing him with the careful, evaluating stare of a Wizengamot clerk. “The point of this is to remember him, Donny. I don’t know what you expect.”

“You still don’t understand. I’m going to have to look her in the eye.” Jimmy's office was built from imposing marble, but only now did the chill of the stone seep into his heart. “I couldn’t say it to her then, but I was there when Michael died.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr and tell me what you think!


	3. The Gang at the Gin Mill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: just a quick retcon, I had to change the date in chpt 1 because it didn't match up with their fifth year. Everything else after that stands. Lemme know what you think in the comments or on my tumblr!

“You were there?”

Why did Jimmy have to stare at him like that? When did his office become an interrogation room? “Don’t make me say it again.”

Jimmy grabbed his wand from where it lay on his desk and pointed it at the door, and the lock snapped into place a moment later. Jimmy was the first of their little band to master non-verbal spellcasting, and one of the first in their year to do it. Donny recalled, perhaps a little jealously, the showing off that Jimmy had enjoyed in their sixth year.

“In retrospect, maybe it should have been apparent.” Jimmy’s brow wrinkled. “When you came back with his body…”

“I know,” Donny snapped. “I was there.” He had brought Michael’s body to the Great Hall himself, carrying him on his own back because Michael deserved more dignity than a levitation spell allowed. Michael wasn’t a pen left across the room. “What was I supposed to say? I couldn’t look Julia in the eyes and tell her. She’d hate me.” 

“No, she wouldn’t.”

“Yeah, she would.” He made a face as if he were swallowing back bile. “She’d hate that I didn’t save him. So, yeah, I said that I just found him. I was seventeen, what did   
you expect from me?”

“We all were seventeen,” Jimmy said slowly, holding his hands out in the universal _take it easy_ gesture. “But we all had to grow up very fast. Especially Julia.”

“Yeah.” With the wind taken from his sails, he sat back down. The Second Wizarding War had taken plenty from them, but none more than Julia. “She never told me about the year up to the Battle. She didn’t tell you anything about it, did she?”

He shook his head. “If she told anyone, it would have been you.” Julia was the only Muggle-born of their number, and had followed in the footsteps of other Muggle-borns barred from Hogwarts: she went into hiding after the Fall of the Ministry of Magic, skipping out on their seventh and final year at Hogwarts. Donny and the others had only found her again at the Battle of Hogwarts when wizards came rolling in to fight, clambering through the passage in the Hog’s Head and into the Room of Requirement. She had changed over the year, with a more determined look in her eye and a ferocity Donny had never seen in seven years of friendship when she ran into Michael’s arms and kissed him.

That was one year. How much had changed in three?

Jimmy rounded his desk and sat down. When he spoke, his voice was gentler. “I’ll ask you again, Donny. Why are you here? Because the way I see it, you have two very good reasons to go to this memorial. For one, you’ll get to see Julia again, and you’ll get answers. And for two, if all of us are in the same room again, maybe we’ll figure out how to…move on. Recover. Something like that.”

Donny stared at him, puzzled to the bottom of his heart. Jimmy was always the overachiever, the know-it-all, the guy who could weasel someone out of detention because he read the Hogwarts Code of Conduct front to back. He was always the guy who knew what to do. The guy _in control_. Donny was truly, genuinely shocked to learn that Jimmy had ghosts, too. “I had no idea, Jimmy.”

“I thought you were smarter than that.” Jimmy leaned back in his chair. “I was going to teach, remember? But then our last year happened, and the Battle of Hogwarts happened, and I couldn’t do any good teaching. Well, not _enough_ good. Working for the Wizengamot means I might one day write laws that will stop this from ever happening again.”

“Shit.” He remembered his friend’s plans changing drastically after the Battle, but the logic had remained a mystery.

“Yeah.” He sat up again. “Donny, I said everything I have to say to you, and not all of us have the glamorous night life of a rock star.”

“All right, all right.” He rose from his chair and went to the fireplace, moving the grate aside before he scooped a handful of Floo Powder from the pot on the shelf. “I’ll see you at the reunion.”

“So you _are_ going?”

Donny threw the powder into the fire. The emerald flames sprang up again, as green as Julia’s eyes. How would he be able to look into her eyes when he saw her again?

He’d have to find a way to do it, because not seeing her just wasn’t an option for him.

“Yeah. See you there.”

***

The next week passed, but Donny felt as though he’d aged a year. He slept through the days and played and drank through the nights. He was going to get his friend back at any cost, and maybe he might even figure out what went wrong after the funeral. Something must have gone wrong for her to vanish from the world like this. But what if, in exchange, she asked for something from him? What if she asked about what happened during the Battle of Hogwarts?

It felt like a trap, but one of his own invention, and that idea brought him a strange calmness. After his last year at Hogwarts, he wasn’t one to just let fate push him around. And as he washed and shaved and dressed a week later, pointedly avoiding the bottle of gin that sat in his cupboard, he knew that whatever happened at the reunion would be either his boon or his fault; either way, they were _his._

The official invitation had arrived three days before the memorial, and it was signed by, of all people, Davy Zlatic. He managed to secure Oliver’s club as the site of their reunion, having earned that favor after working there after their Hogwarts days. Maybe that was fate working in its funny way: Johnny had once told him that when Ravenclaw House won a Quidditch match, Davy supplied the butterbeer for the victory celebration. 

The night arrived. Donny Apparated at the front door of Oliver’s, a swanky joint that had turned out its lights early. Huh—closing early on a weekend night? What kind of privilege did Davy have?

Donny took a deep breath, combed his hair out of his eyes, and reached out for the door. But before he could grab the knob, the door was yanked open, revealing a smiling face buried in a beard. “Donny, ya good old son of a bitch!”

Davy Zlatic moved aside to let Donny in, clapping him on the shoulder to lead him towards the bar. “Merlin, mountain man, look at you,” Donny said, gesturing to the healthy growth on his face. “Did you chug a Hair Growth Tonic every day for a year?”

Davy laughed. “This? No, this is a force more powerful than magic: good genes.”

Two more figures sat at the bar. There was Jimmy, significantly more relaxed than when he met him at the Ministry, talking to his old roommate Wayne Wright. Wayne sat ramrod straight on the barstool, and near his hand was a glass of water.

Wayne turned when they drew closer. “Been a while, Donny. How are you?”

“Doing all right for myself. And you?”

Wayne chuckled. “I’d say you’re doing more than all right. I caught your show at the Snidget’s Roost.”

“Really?” The Snidget’s Roost was packed on the weekend, but Donny thought his friend’s disdain for disorder would have made him stick out like a sore thumb. “Why didn’t you catch me after?”

“I had to get home. Early nights.”

A smile crept up Davy’s face. “Spill it. What’s her name?”

Wayne choked on his water. “What are you talking about?”

“You work at the apothecary, Wayne,” said Davy with a twinkle in his eye. “I don’t think folks are beating down your door at seven in the morning.”

“You don’t know my crowd,” he fired back, but he had a smile on his face all the same. “Her name’s Corinne. I woulda said hello that night, but she wasn’t feeling too hot. Bad clams or something.”

“Don’t sweat it.” Donny shrugged. That was the power of love, he supposed—one’s world lived and died by the whims of one’s partner. “But next time you come to the Roost, you’re picking up my tab.”

“Well, that’s a trap if I’ve ever heard one,” said a clear, familiar voice from the doorway. He spun on his heel and found Julia standing there, aglow in the sunset washing through the door. She had a shy smile on her face, the same shy smile she’d given him their first day on the train. “Donny always cleaned out Honeydukes in Hogsmeade. You want to see the damage he can do to a pub?”


	4. The Rough Reunion

Julia stood there in the entrance to the club with that shy smile and those sparkling eyes. Donny felt a weight lifted off his shoulders. Suddenly all his worries leading up to this moment seemed so paltry. What mattered was that Julia was _here_. After three years, she had returned.

He wove through the tables to meet her as if pulled by a string. And she, as if pulled by the same string, started moving towards him, too, and collided hard with him, her arms wrapping around him. “Hi, Donny.”

“Hi, Julia.” He pulled away from her and took her in. She wore Muggle clothing as they all did, but she looked like she stepped right out of a dream. “Time’s been kind to you.”

Julia, whose eyes had already grown misty, burst into laughter. “And here I was, wondering if you’d changed.”

He grinned. “Once a cad, always a cad. Right?”

From behind him, Donny heard Davy call out, “Get over here, Red.”

“Davy!” Julia peeled away from him and began making her rounds with the others. They were all keenly aware of the time that had passed, but as Davy served up drinks and they chatted at the bar, Donny had a vivid memory of all of them doing the same sort of thing at school. They would always table-hop in the Great Hall to catch their friends in different Houses. Not much changed at all.

“I’ve been here once or twice before, I think,” said Julia, looking around at the club. “I didn’t see you, though.”

“Oliver keeps me in the kitchens,” said Davy with a grin, “so I don’t ruin too many marriages. What’ll ya have?”

“Just a water,” she said, but then her forehead creased, and she shook her head. “Never mind. A firewhiskey.”

“Whoa,” said Wayne, who seemed unaware that he’d spoken at all. When he caught her look, he said, “Didn’t know you had a taste for it is all.”

She shrugged. “Been a while since I’ve had the chance to drink it.”

Donny opened his mouth but was silenced by the sound of the door opening again. A new voice that he recalled as, more often than not, contemptuous, rang out. “Been a while since I saw all these mugs in one place.”

Julia smirked. “You don’t mean that, Nick.”

“Who says so?” Nick Radel joined them at the bar, swathed in wizard’s robes bearing the crest of the Ministry of Magic. “Sorry. Woulda gotten here sooner and outta these, but someone with cotton for brains Transfigured his Muggle neighbor’s dog into a birdbath.”

Jimmy cringed. “I remember doing something like that. It was before I got my wand, when my magic manifested without me knowing what to do about it.”

“How old were you?”

Jimmy shrugged. “Eight, maybe.”

“Huh,” said Nick. “This kid was seven. Thought you both woulda known better.”

Donny and Julia exchanged a glance. _Same old Nick._

Nick and the others fell to trading barbs, but Donny, who hardly left Julia’s side as the night progressed, drank the last of his gin and turned to her. It was all well and good to see his old friends, but he hadn’t gone practically four years with no contact with them. “It really is good to see you again, Jules.”

Again, Julia bestowed upon him that shy, soft smile. She was always so quiet in class, content to work hard and master spells without anyone knowing she was there. Well, all the better—when Pansy Parkinson had chosen Julia as her victim of the week, Julia had perfected the Oppugno Jinx. When used with the flock of birds Donny had created practicing the Bird-Conjuring Charm, the results were sufficient enough to keep Parkinson away from them for quite some time.

“I’m glad to see you again. All of you. I don’t think I’ve had a happier moment in the last three years.” She gazed around the empty club and sighed. “The world can get pretty lonely pretty quick.”

Weight settled back on his soul. They were circling around the answers he ached for, and with just enough pushing…

He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the old gramophone. The Muggles who frequented this club could enjoy rock ‘n’ roll and dance music all they liked, but the wizards knew the best way to a good time was to put on a Celestina Warbeck record. Did Muggles even notice the gramophone when they came to Oliver’s?

Julia’s face warmed up as Celestina’s sweet voice floated over to them. Donny turned to Davy and asked, “You mind if we breathe a little life into this gathering?”

He chuckled. “Go right ahead.”

Donny shot him a grin and then turned back to Julia, holding out his arm. “May I?”

“Donny, really?”

“Yeah. It’ll finally make up for stepping all over your toes at the Yule Ball.”

“But I always liked holding that over your head.” Her hand found his arm and together they walked onto the barren dance floor.

“I missed this song,” she said as they swayed gently. “It was always one of my favorites.”

He sucked in a breath and went slow with his words. Julia wasn’t like Jo, who he had shouted at until he got his way. “Julia,” he began. “You sound like you went into hiding again.”

Her smile vanished, and she suddenly became very interested in the Cornish pixie that must have been hovering over his shoulder. He continued, “You talk about all the stuff you missed, all the things you haven’t had for a while. But you didn’t have to go into hiding again—and if something happened to you, you know any of us would help you as soon as we got your owl. Look at what happened tonight. You got us all here in a week.”

He glanced back at the bar, where their old friends were laughing. “Sure, we saw each other here and there, but all it took was one letter from you for us to drop everything and meet. What happened, Julia?”

Unease danced in her eyes while the rest of her body ground to a halt. “It’s a long story.”

His jaw tightened. “I’m listening.”

She pulled out of their waltz, shrinking away from him, and he did the same. She said, “Johnny’s not here yet. I’d rather not have to tell it twice.”

“You’re killing me, Jules.” He was her best friend since they were eleven, and she wouldn’t even tell _him?_ After everything, she really wouldn’t give him this much? “It’s me. Can’t you give me something?”

“No, Donny! I can’t!”

Her words drew the attention of the others at the bar, who quickly stopped laughing. “Hey,” Nick barked, standing up. “What’s going on over there?”

“Nothin’, Nick.” Donny kept his gaze on Julia, but the longer he looked at her, the wider the trench between them grew. “You know you were supposed to hand in your Prefect badge at the end of the year, right?” 

He stormed away to the bathrooms before anyone could dare answer him, nearly breaking down the door in his anger. This was supposed to be a reunion for them—and, even worse, Donny realized, this was supposed to be a memorial for Michael. His heartache for Julia had to wait.

But what had happened to her? Why had she taken flight the way she did, and why couldn’t she tell the story twice?

He didn’t know how long he stared at the cracked bathroom mirror before the door opened and Jimmy came in, with that know-it-all look on his face. “I don’t want to hear it, Jimmy.”

“I wasn’t going to say anything.” He only briefly held Donny’s gaze in the mirror before glancing at his hands in the sink, which he’d scrubbed red and raw. “I’m just letting you know that Johnny finally made it, and that Julia’s asking everyone to sit down.”


	5. The Fractured Friendship

Donny and Jimmy left the bathroom and found the others migrating towards the tables, crowded around a new face. Johnny Simpson had arrived finally, his tall, curly head peeking out over the others’. Johnny’s eyes landed on them and he called out, “Hey, guys! Party’s all here!”

Donny slapped on a smile. By the time he and Jimmy joined the others, they were all pulling chairs down from the tables and settling into them, gathering around Julia as she dug through the contents of her bag. She sank her arm into her tiny pocketbook all the way up to her elbow—an expert at Charms, honestly—and finally pulled out an old vinyl record. On the cover was a winking, beckoning Frank Sinatra.

“I’d like to put this on, Davy, if you don’t mind,” she said. “It was Michael’s favorite.”

Davy waved his wand, and Celestina Warbeck’s voice abruptly went silent. Julia went off to replace the record, and a moment later, an upbeat Sinatra tune filled the club, and Julia was walking back to them with a sad smile.

Johnny, sitting backwards in his chair, glanced at Donny and snickered. “I’m surprised you’re letting this fly.”

Donny scowled. “How shitty do you think I am?”

Bewildered, Johnny looked around and caught the looks of everyone around him who had witnessed the fallout that preceded Johnny’s arrival. Before he could say anything, Davy mercifully returned with a round of firewhiskey, and then, finally, with Sinatra bouncing along in the background, Julia began her tale.

“I know I have some explaining to do,” she said, looking around at them all, “but first I just want you all to know that I’m so grateful you came. This anniversary is rough for me, to say the least, but I know I’m not the only one.”

Jimmy offered her a sympathetic smile. “I don’t want to speak for anyone else, but I think it’s fair to say that you can count on us,” he replied.

Nick added, “We’re always just an owl away.” Donny tried not to look too baffled at Nick’s words. Last he remembered, tenderness and gentleness were not his strong suits.

Julia nodded. “Thank you. I really am lucky to have had friends like you. To _have_ friends like you. It truly is a pleasure to be back.”

“Julia,” said Davy, his eyes boring into Donny, “I think we’re owed some answers. Where _were_ you, exactly?”

She looked down into her glass of firewhiskey, her fingers tightening on the handle. Johnny piped up, “You don’t have to tell us everything, but we were worried about you. Where have you been all this time?”

Her voice was meek. “It’s a long story.”

“We got time.” All heads turned to Donny. He climbed to his feet and stared hard at Julia, and suddenly four years of fear and anger and hopelessness surged within him, sharpening his words as he flung them at her. “We spent our last year at Hogwarts hoping you were okay. And then you came back, but then you were gone again as soon as we buried Michael.”

A chill ran through the group. Jimmy sucked in a breath and the warmth in Davy’s eyes died down. Were they surprised Donny dared to talk about Michael? They were all here to commemorate him! Donny had put up his defenses, walling in his heart, but what about them?

“Take it easy, pal,” said Davy, in a tone of voice that indicated no friendliness whatsoever.

“Yeah, Donny.” Johnny seemed lost, having run into a web of tension he hadn’t seen the creation of. “I don’t think this is really the time.”

“Who knows? This might be the only time we got.” He had spent years thinking about this moment, the anger calcifying in his heart. He hadn’t realized how much it had hurt until now. “What happens if you disappear for another three years?”

“Donny!” Wayne jumped to his feet, but Donny didn’t veer off his course.

“You don’t know what it was like, Julia.” He swallowed past the thick lump in his throat and charged ahead, for better or for worse. “I spent every night of my last year at school wondering where you were, if you were okay, if you were caught by Snatchers or turned over to the Ministry. And if anything bad did happen to you, how could I know? Did you die alone? In pain? And then you come back to fight, and Michael died, and I thought you would stay with us. We could help each other!”

Now she was looking at him with a hard glare that cut through her tears. She didn’t speak for a long time, but then she set her firewhiskey down, wiped her eyes, and fixed him with a dry anger that could bring down Jericho.

“You got a lot of nerve telling me how bad it was for you while I was on the run.” She was like a fortress, unassailable and strong. “I had to erase my mother’s memory of me. I had to hide from people who wanted me dead for no other reason than my Muggle birth. I spent that year moving around, changing identities, and resisting the temptation of bringing you all to my hiding spot because I couldn’t stand being alone. So don’t tell me how rough _you_ had it, Donny.”

Silence blanketed the room once again. Donny’s hands began to shake as he felt everyone’s eyes land on him. They were angry and disappointed and hurt and accusatory—did they know? Had they put the pieces together?

Jimmy finally climbed to his feet and grabbed Donny’s arm. “Let’s go.”

Donny shook him off. “Why didn’t you stay after the war?” he demanded. “It was safe for you. You didn’t have to hide. You could stay in the Wizarding World!”

“The Wizarding World took everything from me!” she yelled. “It took my safety. It took _Michael_. He was killed by a world of magic-users that had torn itself apart, so I left before it could take anything else from me!”

She swiped angrily at her eyes and then grabbed her glass again, taking a long drink of firewhiskey. “I returned my mother’s memories and lived as a Muggle. You know, I was on the brink of snapping my wand in half, but then the idea of Death Eaters finding us—”

Johnny stood up and reached out carefully to her. “There aren’t any more Death Eaters walking the streets. The Ministry made sure of that.”

“There are still people who believe in them,” she shot back. “There are still people who think I stole magic from a ‘real’ wizard.”

“They’re idiots.” Nick’s voice was flat. “No one ever said that until the Muggle-Born Registration Committee started spreading it.”

“It doesn’t have to be true for it to be believable.” She downed more firewhiskey. “This world was dangerous for me. It still is. And it hurt to come back to.”

The lump in Donny’s throat had grown bigger, and all his fight was gone. The Wizarding World had hurt Julia deeply, but she was wrong about one thing: it hadn’t taken everything.

But this wasn’t about proving her wrong. This was a fight Donny was eager to wage, because fighting and working and reaching for something was better than hoping it would drift back into his life.

“I’m sorry.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “These last couple years haven’t been the best for me, either. I was going crazy worrying about you, I just—I didn’t realize it was all getting calcified in me.”

Their friends looked between them as if at a tennis match. Julia stared at him for a long time, her lip trembling, and then finally said, “Maybe this was a mistake. Asking you all here—”

“No.” Donny shook his head. “No, it was my mistake to lash out. To not think from the other side. Especially when we’re all here for what we’re here for.”

“For Michael,” said Jimmy, a lost look in his eyes.

Donny cleared his throat. “If it’s too much, Julia, I’ll just head out.”

“No!” She lurched toward him and then caught herself. “Please, no. I’m in no place to ask, but I don’t want to be alone for another one of these.”

Donny stopped thinking. His legs moved on their own until he had crossed the circle and wrapped Julia in his arms. Her own snaked around him, too, and they clung to each other desperately, the last four years they’d weathered being eaten away by the fierce affection between them.

“I missed you,” she mumbled into his shoulder.

“I missed you, too.” 

When they pulled away, their eyes were wet but Donny was smiling, though he was careful not to grin too widely. Julia said in a trembling voice, “I think we could use another round of firewhiskey, Davy.”

Davy was smiling beneath his beard, but he kept an eye on Donny as he got up and went for refills. Donny said, “We came here to talk about Michael. Do you want to do that?”

“Yes,” she said, “but first, I think all of us here should talk a little more.” Her gaze swept around her friends, all in varying states of petrified awkwardness at the scene they had been powerless to intervene in. “I missed you all just as much.”

Donny pulled his chair over and they all sat down once again. Donny couldn’t help but feel right, for the first time in years. His friends were here and Julia was here, and soon they were talking about their lives and their jobs and laughing at funny stories. This was what was missing after the Battle. This was what he would fight to bring back again.

He couldn’t take his eyes off Julia all night. Not when she was laughing, not when she was tearing up again as they spoke about Michael. He felt a pull in his heart toward her and an iron determination in his soul. He’d spent enough time wondering if she was okay, and now it was time to ensure that himself. 

_I can’t let you slip away again._


	6. The Slytherin Spy

**October 21st, 1997 – Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

“What’s wrong with you, Trojan?” 

Professor Alecto Carrow had sidled up to Michael’s desk, her sloping shoulders casting a shadow over him and Donny. Donny could see determination in Michael’s set jaw and in the fist that clenched his wand beside him on the bench. And then he did something he should never do in Muggle Studies: he opened his mouth.

“Professor—”

“He’s ill,” Donny butted in. “Had a fever all night. He’s having trouble staying awake, Professor. I think I should take him to the hospital wing.”

Professor Carrow glared at Donny, which was lucky because she was missing the way Michael was glaring at Donny, too. She opened her mouth, but then a voice at the front of the room piped up, “I think he should repeat back the lesson, Professor.”

All three of their heads swiveled to the front, where James Haupt had expertly crafted a mask of concern for Michael. Donny knew well enough that Haupt didn’t have an ounce of goodwill in his heart, thanks to his Death Eater father who had seemingly made cruelty a family trait. “He should understand the gist of the lesson, since he’s missing the rest of it.”

“Ten points to Slytherin, Haupt.” Carrow turned back to Michael with an evil smile. “Go on. Repeat back t’ me, just to make sure you was listenin’.”

Michael, burning with fury, swallowed and looked down at his desk. “Protecting Wizardkind from so-called Muggle-borns is vital.”

Carrow’s smile stretched across her face, reaching her beady little eyes. “And what are Muggle-borns?”

Michael stopped pretending to be sick and stared her directly in the eyes. “They’re not what—”

“They’re not real wizards,” Donny finished, bile rising in his throat. “They’re stealing magic from real wizards. Not to be trusted.”

Carrow drew up to her full height, which wasn’t much, and scowled at the pair of them. “Don’t give away the answer next time, Mister Novitski. Get him to the hospital wing.”

“Yes, Professor.” Donny stood up and gathered his and Michael’s books, shooting his friend a look that threatened a Bat-Bogey Hex if he didn’t follow him. Michael stood and stared down Haupt as the professor walked back to the front of the classroom, but Donny grabbed his arm and all but dragged him to the door. He caught the faces of Nick, Jimmy, and Wayne as he hauled him out to the corridor, all working to disguise their anger.

Donny dragged him out into the hall, ignoring Michael until they turned the corner. Only then did he throw the textbooks to the ground and round on Michael, but his friend beat him to the punch.

“The hell was that for, Nova?”

“Julia’s not here, so don’t waste your time pulling the bravery shtick,” Donny hissed. “I don’t care how much you Gryffindors bellyache about sitting through Muggle Studies!”

“What do you expect?” Michael spat. “I can’t listen to that like it’s nothing! It’s because of people like her and Haupt that made Julia go on the run!”

Julia had disappeared from her home over summer break, following the scores of Muggle-borns forced into hiding after the fall of the Ministry of Magic. She managed to send a letter to Donny explaining that she had to flee, knowing that he wouldn’t rest if he didn’t know that much, and that she hoped he would take care of her owl Ellen for her, along with some other things.

“What do you think you’re doing in there?” Donny fired back, gesturing down the hall towards the classroom. “Protecting her? Standing up for her? She’s not here, Rubber! She can’t hear you!”

“It’s not just her, it’s for every other Muggle-born!”

“And you think you can fight for them when you’re being hit with the Cruciatus Curse?” A muscle jumped in Donny’s jaw. “All you’re doing in there is declaring yourself a problem student. Shouting at Carrow and at people like her only marks you down as someone who might pose a threat to their regime. Do you think Julia would want you to pin a target on your back?”

Michael glowered at him. “Shut up.”

Donny refused. _“Would she?”_

Michael fell silent, the furrows in his brow aging him considerably. He wasn’t the only one, though; every student at Hogwarts had been forced to grow up quickly. The poor first-years who had grown up with their parents’ glowing memories of Hogwarts had been the fastest to lose their innocence.

Finally, with a rocky voice, he said, “Julia would want me to do what’s right.”

“Not at the cost of your safety, she wouldn’t.” Donny drew close to Michael, glancing over their shoulders in case anyone overheard him. “If you wanna rebel, work against them quietly. Drawing attention to yourself by shouting your cause from the rooftops only makes you easier to write off.”

He shook his head. “I don’t know about you, but I can’t stay quiet about this.”

“Do you want to see Julia again?”

Silence fell between them and Michael pulled away, an insulted look on his face. Donny plowed on, “If you want to see Julia again, you gotta stay quiet, or else you’re not gonna survive this year. You think I like listening to that bullshit? It’s sickening, but it’s what we gotta do.”

“For what? Why should we sit through that? I can take the Cruciatus Curse, Donny. If that’s what it costs to rebel, then I’ll pay it!”

“Now is not the time to be a _fucking_ martyr!” Donny began to pace, raking his hand through his hair. “We’re fighting a war. Anger is good—it keeps us from being brainwashed—but the more of us that get tortured, the fewer of us are there to fight. Besides.”

Donny paused, drawing up to his full height. “Dumbledore’s Army needs eyes in the school.” 

The shock hit Michael like the blast of a bomb. “You’re working for the DA? With Neville?”

He nodded. “I’m a half-blood Slytherin. I’m one step away from being the safest person at Hogwarts. As long as I lay low and keep attending classes, I can keep the DA informed of what’s going on.”

He watched Donny for a long time, evaluating, judging, working through his surprise. Finally, he said, “Maybe the best place for me is with them.”

Donny sighed through his nose. Michael had become a dear friend to all of them, but he was certainly a firecracker who barreled into situations that required subtle thinking. 

“Don’t go to them yet,” he warned. “Stay for another week of classes, and then go to the Room of Requirement. If you go now, it’ll raise suspicion for the DA, and Carrow and her brother are already watching you, I guarantee it.”

“Fine.” Michael huffed. “And going right now would implicate you, too, I guess.”

“Yeah, it would.” Donny had thought of that, too, but he had already figured out a contingency plan if suspicion fell on him: claim that Michael instead wanted fresh air and asked Donny to leave him alone on the grounds. Then anything might have happened to Michael, anything but joining the rebellion.

Hogwarts was a battle ground this year, and Julia had tasked Donny with keeping all their friends safe while she was gone. But Donny would never tell Michael that, because a part of him liked keeping his sparse correspondence with Julia a secret. And he would tell himself it was because the fewer people knew, the better, and that the letters were instructions to him and him alone; and of course he and Michael were best friends. He just stuck his neck out for him, after all! Maybe that part of him was selfish, and maybe it was hurting; either way, it was the part of him that allowed him to swallow the hatred and the torture and go on meekly about his day, because it was the part of him that would do anything for Julia.


	7. The Girl at the Gig

_“You take your pearl of a girl on a whirl and you twirl her till her toes start to curl, singing Hallelujah!”“Ain’t we roaring back, and ain’t we back on track, and ain’t we proud!”_

The piano went into its last riff, but the clubbers were already applauding him. Donny bowed his head, said his thank-you, and swept off stage. Only when he was safely in his dressing room did he allow a giddy smile to rise to his face. He and Julia had last seen each other at the memorial a week ago, and they had left that night on good terms, but he hadn’t expected her to surprise him like this.

He slipped out into the house, nodding to the clubbers who recognized him and heading for the bar. Now he understood how he was able to recognize her from the stage: she looked radiant tonight.

She signaled to the bartender as he drew up beside her. “A butterbeer for your star performer, please,” she said, and then she climbed off the stool and ran into his arms. 

“Donny, you were amazing up there! I’m so glad I caught you.” She pulled away with a gleaming smile. “Wayne told me when you performed. Sorry I got in late.”

“If I had known you were coming, you would have had a table reserved for you.” But for now, he sat down with her at the bar and took a drink of his butterbeer. A new singer had taken the stage, beginning with a cover of a well-known Warbeck tune. “How are you?”

“I’m doing very well. You know, after last week, I hadn’t realized how much I missed this.” She looked around the Snidget’s Roost, watching the witches and wizards make merry. “The Wizarding World. I missed being able to…”

She pulled her wand from her sleeve and waved it. The dark blue buttons on her coat brightened to a light pink. “Do that. I missed doing pointless little things like that where people could see me.”

“You needed a fix.” There wasn’t much that he didn’t rely on magic for. How Julia had exiled herself for so long was a wonder. “Don’t worry. You don’t gotta hide in here.” The Snidget’s Roost was a wizards-only establishment, which explained the flowing robes that transformed the dancers into a churning sea of black, green, violet, and red. Some, like Donny and Julia, preferred Muggle clothing. As beautiful as his mother had looked in her dark green velvet robe, Donny’s Muggle father had looked so sharp in his three-piece suit that Donny adopted the style growing up.

He drained the last of his butterbeer and ignored Julia’s look of surprise as he said, “Hey, wanna dance? This gal’s good. I can vouch for her.”

Julia pursed her lips. “Things got pretty rocky the last time we danced.”

“I’ll be on my best behavior tonight. Promise.”

She laughed. “You without a chip on your shoulder?” she replied, finishing off her own drink and climbing to her feet. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“You’re full of it.” He offered her his arm and they swept out to the dance floor, swinging and swaying to the singer’s tune. The world was right—Julia was spinning in and out of his arms, the music was playing, and they were both smiling.

And Donny felt wonderful. After climbing over last week’s rockiness, he and Julia could finally be the unstoppable force they once had been. Greater than friends, closer than siblings. When they were together, nothing stood in their way. 

He couldn’t remember ever dancing for so long while not at all getting tired. He was older than when he went to the Yule Ball with Julia, but his feet didn’t hurt like they had that night. And yet they had more merriment and madness and smiles that could light up the world.

“Donny!” Julia said suddenly, tugging him out of the crowd. “Donny, we should go to the Three Broomsticks!”

“What?” He glanced across the Snidget’s Roost. “What’s wrong with here?”

“Nothing,” she said when they made it off the dance floor. She looked around the club and then pulled him towards the door. “Guess we’ll have to Apparate.”

“What?” He was puzzled, but he didn’t resist as she pulled him toward the door. Only when they hit the chill of the night—or early morning by now, he suspected—did he tug her gently to a stop. “Julia, why are we going to the Three Broomsticks?”

She spun around, hovering on her tiptoes in her excitement. “It’s the Three Broomsticks,” she said, as if Donny had asked her to add two and two. “It was our favorite haunt in Hogsmeade. That’s as good a place as any to go, if tonight’s all about coming back.”

Of course. The Three Broomsticks was a popular pub in one of the only all-Wizarding villages left, and an old favorite among them during their Hogwarts days. Where better for her to make a triumphant return to the Wizarding World?

“It’s late.” Now he felt the ache of dancing with her for hours. His legs hurt and his lungs felt as though they’d shriveled up like a dry sponge. He wasn’t quite as young as he used to be. “And the Broomsticks is closed by now. It’s not really a party joint.”

Julia’s smile fell. “Oh.”

He said quickly, “But why don’t we make plans? You, me, the Broomsticks for lunch?”

She nodded, her smile creeping back up. “I’d like that. I’m off Tuesday afternoon.”

“Tuesday it is.” He smiled at her. “But for now, I’m heading home.”

Julia still glowed with merriment, but something had softened her gaze, something tired and aching, and yet electric. “Tuesday it is,” she said softly. 

She tugged on his hand suddenly as hers came up to his cheek, guiding his face until their lips met.

He sucked in a breath through his nose. Something erupted in his chest, the latch broken by the scent of her perfume as it washed over him, and suddenly he felt as though his entire body were filled with firewhiskey. The glow he’d seen her bathed in at Oliver’s wasn’t the sunset, he now knew. It was her, and she’d brought him into it.

Suddenly the glow was gone. Julia pulled away from him and stared at him, horrified.

“I’m sorry, Donny! I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me, I just—”

She fished in her bag for her wand again and pulled it out. “I’m so sorry.”

“Julia!” But before he could take her hand again, she had turned on her heel and Apparated away, leaving only chilly night air behind him.

A hole opened up in his chest where her glow had once been. He was gasping for breath, shocked and baffled and wondering when she would remember that he hated the Three Broomsticks.

She made Donny feel like he was singing to a crowd of millions. She made him feel like the world was in the palm of his hand. She made him feel _alive._


	8. The Denouement He Desired

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been about six hundred years since I updated last! Rest assured, I have many more plans for this fic--this is only the beginning!

Julia made him feel alive, which was why he refused to wait until their Three Broomsticks date to see her again.

But standing there in front of the Snidget’s Roost in the cold night air with a pounding heart and an electric tingle on his lips, he felt so totally helpless. She had gotten closer to him than ever, and suddenly she had pulled away, out of his grasp. He hadn’t felt this helpless since—  
He knew her address! Her invitation to the memorial had come by owl, but she still wrote her address along the top like a Muggle letter. He knew just where she would be!

He turned on the spot and Apparated to his apartment, landing in the middle of his dowdy living room. Reeling from the suffocating effects of magical travel, he tripped over an empty bottle of gin and toppled over the arm of his couch, landing face-first in the cushions. He rolled off and scrambled for his bedroom, where he yanked open the drawer of his dresser and started rifling through his shirts. “Where the fuck did it go? Ah!”

He pulled the folded-up invitation from between two shirts he never wore and opened it up. Sure enough, her address was written neatly in the top corner.  
He repeated it to himself in a low voice, a faithful prayer, as he tucked it into his pocket. It had crossed his mind that showing up at her home after what just transpired between them may not be the most elegant or courteous move, but he was done with being left hanging. 

He turned on the spot again and Apparated, clinging to his prayer as he weathered yet again the feeling of squeezing through a rubber tube. But at the end of the suffocating tunnel was Julia, and he could almost feel the tug on the tether around his heart, the tether that she held in her grasp, aware of it or not. At the end was the answer to that tingle on his lips.

He landed in a quiet neighborhood, dark and deserted at this late hour. He stood in front of a townhouse, slim and unassuming, and raced up the steps and pounded on the door. “Julia!”

A moment later, a woman in her fifties opened the door, auburn hair wrapped in curlers and a floral robe hastily tied shut with an uneven knot. “Are you trying to tear my door down?”

He recognized that wit as Julia’s, and between that and her hair, the deduction was easy. “You must be Julia’s mother.”

“And you must be just leaving,” she replied with a frown, making to close the door.

“Wait!” Donny pulled out the invitation Julia had sent him, which bore her elegant signature. “I’m a friend of Julia’s from school. Donny Novitski.”

Her frown deepened, and her forehead creased, but he saw recognition in her eyes. “Didn’t she go out to see you tonight?”

“Yeah, she did. I know it’s late, Missus Adams, but I just need five minutes to talk to her. Five minutes.” He pulled his wand from his sleeve. Mrs. Adams stiffened, but he held it out and offered it to her. “I don’t mean any harm.”

Mrs. Adams snatched the wand away, turning it over in her hands. The year she and Julia spent on the run was reflected in her eyes, when wands became an instrument of torture instead of a symbol of the world her daughter found a place in. Donny didn’t know what had happened during that year, but by the look in her eyes, it wasn’t pretty.

She looked back up at him, and then said, “It’s cold out there. Come in and I’ll let her know, but if she doesn’t want to speak to you, you’re going straight home, got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mrs. Adams moved aside and allowed Donny in, gesturing to a parlor down the hall. “Sit down. I’ll be right back.”

Donny took his seat in the parlor, but suddenly found that sitting was impossible, so he began to pace. All around him were signs of an incredibly Muggle life: a basket of abandoned laundry that wasn’t folding itself, no Floo Powder by the fireplace, and photographs that were completely still.

He had stopped to look at the photographs, all solely of Julia and her mother, when he suddenly heard a muffled, _“What?”_ from upstairs, followed shortly by footsteps pounding downstairs and through the hall. And then Julia swept into the door of the parlor, still dressed up for the night , save for the absence of her pumps.

“Donny!” she gasped. “What are you doing here?”

He made a beeline for her but then stopped just short of encroaching too closely. It was as if he’d run up against an invisible wall before her, built from the kiss that had passed between them.

“I can’t take another stolen ending,” he said. “I care about you, Julia, but you have a track record. I can’t lose you again.”

She stared at him, eyes wide. “You don’t want to lose me?” she repeated numbly.

“No.” He shook his head. “I need you in my life, Jules.”

Mrs. Adams had returned downstairs and was protectively drawing up behind her daughter. “Mister Novitski, this has been quite enough—”

“Wait, Ma.” Julia didn’t look away from Donny. “I thought I had ruined things.”

“Of course not.” He was aware of Mrs. Adams looming near them, but nothing, not even a mother on her guard, could shatter the bubble he and Julia stood in.

She swallowed hard. “We’ve always been friends,” she said quietly. “And I loved you like a friend. But seeing all you guys again—and seeing you again, Donny, unlocked something. I couldn’t stop thinking of you all those years. And I’m starting to think that was more than because we were best friends.”

He took a deep breath to try and steady his pounding heart. It didn’t work. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, either. When you were gone from Hogwarts, and then the Wizarding World. You kissed me, Julia, and it felt right.”

Julia’s lip quivered, and she remained silent for along time. Donny saw uncertainty dancing in her eyes like firelight. What was left? What else could hold her back?

“What if this is too fast?” she whispered finally. “What if we’re just happy to see each other again?”

“That sounds like it might be the case.” Mrs. Adams set a comforting hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “Mister Novitski, it’s late. I think you and Julia should get a good night’s rest before you make any decisions.”

“Will all due respect,” said Donny finally, looking at Mrs. Adams. “I’ve waited for years to maybe see your daughter again. I can’t take another maybe.”

Mrs. Adams was taken aback, and he took that opportunity to finally grab Julia’s hands. They were soft and warm, exactly as how he remembered. “Let me ask you one question, and then I’ll say goodnight. Just one.”

Spellbound, Julia nodded. “Okay.”

He squeezed her hands and looked into her eyes. The uncertainty had vanished from them, replaced by a strange steadiness. With a jolt, he realized it was the same steadiness he felt in the moment. It was the confidence of a single-minded pursuit, the inability to consider any other outcome than the one he needed. “Did you kiss me tonight because I’m your best friend?”

Realization washed over her. _Exactly the one he needed._ “No.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re more than that.” The words tumbled from her perfect lips before she seemed aware of them. “You’re my best friend, but you’re something else, too. I don’t know what yet.”

“Neither do I.” His hands cupped her rosy cheeks. “I want to find out.”

She nodded. “So do I.”


	9. The Careful Courtship

“Hey, there, stranger.”

Donny beamed at her, righting himself as he climbed out of her fireplace. “My apologies, Mrs. Adams. Floo travel isn’t the cleanest.”

This evening, Mrs. Adams was beaming excitedly, waiting beside the mantle with a broom and dustpan. “Don’t you worry about it,” she said, sweeping the ashes into a little pile. “I’ll let you know when I get tired of watching a full-grown man climb out of my fire.”

He laughed. “How are you, Mrs. Adams?”

“For the last time, it’s June.” She swept a pile of ash off his shoulder. Julia’s mother had warmed up considerably to Donny in the weeks since he and Julia began to explore what lay between them. Showing up half-mad on one’s doorstep in the middle of the night didn’t lend itself to a glowing first impression, but that had long since turned on its head.

The ceiling creaked above them and then they heard footsteps hurrying down the stairs. Julia appeared in the living room, fiddling with a ruby earring. “Evening, Donny. Sorry I’m late. Ready to go?”

“Yeah. See you later, Mrs. Adams.” 

“It’s June!”

Donny shot a grin over his shoulder as Julia took his arm and they walked out onto the street. Instead of Apparating, though, Donny flung his arm out and hailed a taxi. One came soaring towards them on the road, glimmering in the evening light. Julia’s bafflement was palpable, but he held his tongue until she joined him on the edge of the sidewalk and pulled him away.

“Donny?” she asked. “What are you doing? Why don’t we just Apparate?”

“I thought maybe tonight we could just do a movie,” he explained. “I’m sort of running out of places to take you. You ever notice that our kind don’t really go out and do things? We read, or listen to the radio, and occasionally we toss a ball through a hoop, but Quidditch season is over and I’m not much into it anyway.”

As they grew closer and closer, Donny had been taking her on a whistle-stop tour of all their favorite Wizarding haunts. A walk down Diagon Alley, a night at the Three Broomsticks, and definitely too many Galleons shelled out for a robe in Madam Malkin’s that he was unsure if Julia would ever wear. And while that was all well and good, Muggles had one edge on wizards: they’d perfected the art of the film.

Julia’s confusion melted into a smile as Donny helped her into the cab. “Why didn’t you say so? I’m pretty picky about movies.”

He climbed in beside her, gave their destination to the driver, and said to her, “I figured. I’m holding off on committing to one until we get there.” 

This was getting easier. There were some growing pains, as was expected when a relationship was growing on top of a friendship, but on the whole, it was all together less strange when he put his arm around her shoulders in the cab, or like when he kissed her goodnight after their outings. It wasn’t that it felt wrong to do those things now. It just felt alien. Though Donny loved to try new things.

They made it to the movie theater and, as expected, spent far too long debating the merits of each movie title against how long they had to wait until it played. In the end, they settled on a supremely Muggle-sounding science fiction thriller that looked perfectly poorly executed, so they stocked up on popcorn (that Julia insisted on paying for, citing better familiarity with Muggle money), they headed off to the theater.

“Hey,” he said once they were settled in two choice seats. “I’ll be right back. Headed to the bathroom.”

“Be back soon,” she said over the previews. “It’s going to start any minute.”

“Won’t miss it.” He carefully extracted himself from the row and headed back into the hall. And halfway there, he passed by a face, but it was all together so shocking to see this face in this movie theater that when it jogged his memory, he couldn’t help but turn back.

“Haupt? Is that you?”

James Haupt was somehow taller than he had been at Hogwarts, though the dark gleam in his eyes hadn’t changed a bit. He was walking with a young woman, who frowned impatiently as Haupt turned at the sound of his name. Haupt’s eyes widened when they landed on Donny, and he broke into a smile.

“Novitski. Been a while, hasn’t it?” He extended his hand, and Donny realized his mistake.

Haupt was vile. One of the few students in his year who thrived under Voldemort’s rule. Donny recalled him smiling during Muggle Studies, and that awful day where Michael almost got himself gutted in front of their entire class.

And now he was acting like a total gentleman?

Donny shook his hand, working hard to keep his expression neutral. Haupt said to his companion, “Go ahead and get us seats. I’ll be right in.”

She pursed her lips and then walked off. Donny watched her carefully around Haupt’s shoulder until she disappeared into a theater—not the theater, he realized with a sigh of relief, where Julia was waiting. “Never thought you’d end up in a place like this,” said Donny with total honesty. He couldn’t imagine Haupt walking into any Muggle establishment without being beset by the Imperius Curse. 

“Yeah.” Haupt glanced back after his companion disappeared. “She thinks we should make an effort to experience Muggle culture.” He rolled his eyes.

Maybe on another night, he would have just ignored it in the name of not engaging and very possibly violating the International Statute of Secrecy. But with Julia sitting in another theater? Julia, who had gone into hiding because of thinking like his?

“They have a culture,” he replied. “If we wanna hide in their world, it makes sense to understand it.”

In a flash, Haupt changed from the pleased movie-goer to exactly the same seventh year who had taunted Michael in Muggle Studies. “I know what I need to know. And how much do we need to know?”

“Sure.” He had nothing to gain from getting heated over this, but he did have Julia waiting for him down the hall, so he checked his watch and said, “Enjoy your movie.”

“I will. Hey, wait, Novitski.” Haupt regained his pleasant-adjacent demeanor in a flash, as though a monumental divide hadn’t just widened between them. “I heard you’re performing now. Singing?”

“Yeah, and playing, too,” he said hesitantly.

Haupt smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes. “I’d love to catch a show. Where do you perform?”

“Here and there. I don’t really do regular gigs,” he lied smoothly. “See you around.”

“Yeah.” He felt Haupt’s eyes on him as he hurried away. “See you around.”

Donny had a bad feeling in his gut the rest of the night. He tried to lose himself in the movie and then in Julia’s stream-of-consciousness review on the cab ride home, but the encounter with Haupt gnawed in his stomach. Merlin, he shouldn’t have said anything! To have a connection with someone so vile while falling in love with someone that person hated on principle—

“Donny?” Julia said, her forehead creasing in worry as her hand touched his cheek. “You’re turning red.”

He was turning red because he’d just come to a realization that, in retrospect, shouldn’t be any surprise. But there it was. He loved her. 

Of course he loved her. How couldn’t he?

His confession threatened to burst from his chest; luckily, the cab pulled up at the Adams home right at that moment. They paid and climbed out with Julia keeping a watchful eye on him. “You should get some rest. I think you might have a fever coming on—”

“It’s nothing,” he said, walking her to her door. “I had a fun time tonight.”

“So did I.” She smiled at him and fished in her pocketbook for her keys. “See you on Saturday at Oliver’s?”

“See you then.” Davy had landed Donny a gig at his pub, and the boys and Julia were all going to see him perform. All together, just like old times. 

She opened her door, but he grasped her by the arm and the door closed again. “I’m really enjoying this,” he said. “Us. I don’t want this experiment to end.”

She smiled. “Neither do I.” She leaned in and kissed him, one hand cupping his cheek, and then pulled away slowly. “You make me happy, Donny. It’s been a while since I’ve been this happy.”

“Well, Miss Adams,” he said, taking both of her hands. “Your happiness is my top priority.”

Julia gazed at him for a moment, her smile faltering as she looked down at their joined hands and then back up at him. And then, with a short, decisive nod, she said, “I would invite you to stay over, but my mother’s waiting up for me.”

Donny’s heart all but leaped out of his chest. Of course he had thought about that, knowing they would reach that stage at some point, but he hadn’t expected it so close and concrete!

“I’m not just saying that,” Julia said quickly, as if she’d misspoken. “I’m not saying that as an excuse not to invite you up. It’s just that Ma is very curious, and she’s probably awake now, too, and—”

“We can go to my place.”

The words fell out of his mouth before he dared to think of their consequences. “We can Apparate over there. What do you say?”

She bit her lip and nodded, wrapping her hands around his arm. “I don’t know your place, so I think Side-arm Apparition’s the way to go.”

“Whatever you say.” With a cheeky grin, he covered her hand with his, firmly fixed the image of his living room in his mind, and turned on his heel.

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think? If you have any questions, comment or come to my tumblr!


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